


Pecan Pie Predicament

by WeWillSpockYou



Series: Georgia On My Mind Special Chapters [5]
Category: Chris Pine - Fandom, Karl Urban - Fandom, McKirk - Fandom, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bad Seamus, Fluff, M/M, Worse Bones, pecan pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWillSpockYou/pseuds/WeWillSpockYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones is making the McCoy family pecan pie recipe until Seamus EATS the recipe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pecan Pie Predicament

Bones was wearing his Thanksgiving apron patterned with handprint turkeys courtesy of the kids and Seamus. The apron had been a surprise gift from Jim. Bones had laughed the at the enormous paw print turkeys left by Seamus.  He laughed harder at Jim’s story about chasing a blue pawed Seamus across the lawn as the normally docile dog had bolted at the sight of the washtub and soap. Bones was thankful Jim had thought to do the painted paw prints on the back deck rather than in the kitchen. He could deal with blue paw prints on the wooden deck but he would have gone nuclear if there had been painted doggie prints all through the house. 

It was two days before Thanksgiving. Bones had taken a few days off from the hospital to help prepare for him and Jim’s first big holiday together as a family. It was also Jim’s first Thanksgiving with Jake and for that alone Jim deserved a perfect holiday filled with family and new traditions. Cue the patented McCoy family pecan pie recipe. The pie and its flakey crust had been a McCoy family tradition for three generations. Bones had learned to make the pie at his mother’s knee when he was nine years old.  Pecan pie duties had been his ever since his first pie had been deemed a culinary masterpiece by all of the gathered McCoy’s.

Bones grabbed the folded, dog-eared, molasses stained recipe out of the back of the family cookbook where it resided, mostly forgotten, for eleven months of the year. The thought crossed Bones’ mind that since it was the only known copy of the recipe in existence, that he should scan or type it into his computer for safe-keeping. He figured there would be time for that later when the pie was cooling on the counter and the house smelled of warm sugar and tradition.

He quickly scanned the pie crust recipe and began to _mise en place_. Putting in place, as the French would say. That phrase was the only French Miss Ellie could speak, it made her feel worldly that she could cook in French just like Julia Child. He gathered the flour and cold butter setting both on the counter near the recipe before turning to the sink to wash his hands. Bones vaguely heard the click-click of Seamus’ nails on the tile floor. Seamus had been Bones’ cooking, now baking buddy. He would lie on his comfy rug near the sliding glass door and keep Bones company as he cooked for their family. He knew part of the reason Seamus hung around was on the off-chance a piece of food hit the floor and for the more likely scenario of Bones covertly smuggling a bite of whatever he was making to an appreciative Seamus. Neither chef nor dog was fooling anyone.

Bones heard paper crinkling as he finished washing his hands. He turned to reach for a washcloth to dry off when he noticed the prized McCoy family pecan pie recipe was gone. He dashed around the counter only to see sodden remains of the paper shredded between Seamus’ massive jaws.

“SEAMUS, NO!” Bones yelled.

The startled dog yelped and ran for the shelter provided by the kitchen table, his claws skidding on the tile floor.

Jim and Miss Ellie, who had been discussing the merits of dressing versus stuffing in the family room, ran into the kitchen when they heard Bones bellow.  When they got to the doorway, they saw a very distraught Bones down on his hands and knees holding what looked liked scraps of paper.

Bones was beside himself. What remained of the recipe was soaked in doggie drool with the ink smudged beyond recognition “Bad dog, Seamus.” Bones yelled, “You’re the worst dog EVER!”

Seamus whined and ran from the room, knocking over two of the kitchen chairs as he bolted from his safe haven under the table.

“Leonard Horatio McCoy, what in the name of General Sherman’s inferno is wrong with you?”  Miss Ellie yelled at her son, who truth be told was looking like he was about to burst into tears any second.

“The recipe,” Bones moaned “Damned nuisance dog ate the recipe.”

“What recipe, Bones?” Jim asked gently. He’d heard Seamus boom up the stairs and was torn between going after him and staying to find out what had caused Bones to lose his peach bred mind. Jim had never heard Bones yell like that before and hoped he never would again.

“McCoy family pecan pie recipe. Been in the family for three generations.” Bones dashed his fists against his wet eyes. His family tradition was gone in one snap of massive canine jaws.

“For the love of Stonewall Jackson, Leonard,” Miss Ellie sounded exasperated. “That’s not a family recipe.”

Bones looked stunned. “What in hell are you talking about, Mom? You told me that recipe had been in the family for generations.”

“It has, doofus. My grandmother copied it out of an issue of _Ladies Home Companion_ back in the 1920’s.”

“ _Ladies Home Companion?”_ Bones asked numbly. He felt lost and defeated, like he’d just lost his best friend, which he probably had.

“Look it up on the internet, Leonard, BUT before you do that, you owe one giant apology to my giant, furry grandbaby. I don’t want to look at your fool face until you’ve made things right with Seamus. McCoys don’t fight on Thanksgiving and we’re not about to start now.”

Bones continued to stare up at Miss Ellie from the kitchen floor.

“Don’t make me go for the cattle prod, young man. Move it.”

Jim reached a hand down to help Bones back to his feet. “What do I say to him, Jim?”

Jim smiled and clapped Bones’ shoulder. He was thankful the kids were at school and not home to see Bones yell at their dog. “Start with ‘I’m sorry’ and grovel from there.” Jim kissed Bones pouting face. “And I don’t think a doggie biscuit or five would go amiss.”

Bones smiled a grateful smile at Jim and dug his hand into the doggie treat bin that Jim had painted with Seamus’ name and blue paw print. Jim must have been busy the day he stamped Seamus’ massive paw on his apron and the treat bin.

He mounted the stairs feeling lower than an earthworm. Seamus had never been anything but a good dog, the BEST dog, actually. Bones constantly wondered why out of the four of them, Seamus had chosen _him_ as his person.

“Seamus?” Bones called as he searched through the upstairs bedrooms. He knew very well where giant dog was hiding; where he always hid, under their bed.

“Seamus?” Bones said again as he walked into his room. He heard a muttered snuffle come from under the bed. He walked to Jim’s side of the bed and sat down on the floor with his back propped against the wall.

“Hi Seamus.” Bones felt his voice click in his throat. It sounded thick and foreign to his ears. “I’m so sorry, boy. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Seamus huffed loudly from under the bed. Bones knew he’d have to do a lot better than that to earn the dog’s forgiveness. “I brought you some biscuits.” Bones said, setting them down in a pile on the floor.  He turned his body to lie on the floor and peered under the bed.  Seamus was curled into a ball with his furry back to Bones.  Under other circumstances, Bones would have found this funny.

“I deserve the furry cold shoulder.” Bones said as he rolled onto his back, pillowing his head on his arms.  “You’re not the worst dog ever.”

Seamus howled at the word “worst.”

Bones cringed as Seamus’ grief echoed off the walls of the bedroom. “You’re the best dog…best friend I’ve ever had.”

Seamus sniffed as if to say, “Yeah, right.”

Bones was staring with unseeing eyes at the ceiling. “It’s Jim and Jake’s first Thanksgiving together and I just wanted the day to be perfect for them. I know what you’re thinking, how does a pie make a bit of difference on such a special day? And you’re right, it really doesn’t, but it’s the tradition of making it and sharing it as a family. That’s what makes it special.” Bones laughed. “I mean hell, it’s diabetes in flakey crust. My family has been making this pie for almost a century. Jim and Jake don’t have any traditions of their own, unless you count burping the theme to Spiderman.” Bones laughed.  “I just wanted to give them memories to build our family on.”

Bones yelped when he felt something cold and wet touch his elbow. He turned his head to see two sad eyes peering at him from under the bed. Bones rolled to his side and reached out for Seamus’ soft ears “I’m sorry, Seamus. I wasn’t a good Daddy today. Can you forgive me?”

Seamus’ answer came in the form of a very warm and very wet tongue against the side of Bones’ face.  He reached further under the bed to pull Seamus closer for a hug. He let his tears soak into the dog’s wiry fur.

“Get a room you two, sheesh.” Miss Ellie giggled from the other side of the bed. Jim was snorting laughter from right behind her.

“Look what I found.” Jim sing-songed, once he stopped laughing and Seamus had made it all the way out from under the bed. The massive dog was munching on the pile of dog treats Bones had brought as a peace offering.  Jim was waving a piece of paper high above his head.

“What is it, Jim?”

“The Kirk-McCoy family pecan pie recipe.” Jim handed the paper to Miss Ellie and reached a hand down to help Bones back to his feet. “Can you teach me how to make the crust?”

“No, Jim.” Bones laughed at the shocked look on Jim’s face. “I’m gonna wait for the kids to come home from school and we’re gonna make it as a family.

Seamus did his happy dance around the bedroom as his human Daddies hugged and his Nana laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this little gem came to me back in October. I was skyping with Corrie71 and she was telling me about different types of Thanksgiving crafts and recipes on Pinterest. That’s when the idea of Seamus eating a prized recipe struck me. It would have been too easy to have Seamus eat the actual pie!
> 
> There wasn’t room to fit this in with my regular chapter of Georgia On My Mind, so I kind of let the idea go until GoWashTheLights asked me about doing a Thanksgiving story. I sat down to work on this on my lunch hour today and wrote the whole thing, longhand, in about forty-five minutes. When it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.
> 
> It broke my heart to have Bones yell at Seamus like that…Poor furry baby. Knowing Bones, that dog is going to have a massive piece of that pie come Thanksgiving and probably a slice of white meat with all the trimmings! 
> 
> Miss Ellie’s continued mention of the Civil War or the War of Northern Aggression, make me giggle! As of course does Bones when he loses his peach bred mind!
> 
> Many thanks to Corrie for providing the last “P” in the title and to GoWashTheLights for prompting me to get this idea into print!  
> Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate. I am thankful for wonderful readers like you and for plot bunnies about pie from amazing friends.


End file.
